


If You Meant It

by lacewingss



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewingss/pseuds/lacewingss
Summary: Kei helps a drunken Tadashi home to their shared apartment after a night at the bar. It's hard to believe anything that Tadashi says, even if he desperately wants to.





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on, Tadashi. We’re almost home.”  
  
Kei stopped in one of the infrequent pools of streetlamp light. The warm yellow glow pushed out at the darkness, offering a safe spot to pause and wait for Tadashi to catch up. The other boy was a few paces behind him, his steps slow and unsteady.  
  
He should have kept a closer eye on Tadashi earlier. He should have firmly reminded him that three drinks was probably enough. That five was out of the question. It was not like Kei to let his friend go over board.  Someone had to look out for Tadashi, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be anyone but him.  
  
 Tonight had been difficult, though.  
  
A group of girls had latched on to the teammates while they were at the bar, and of them one seemed particularly fond of Tadashi. With his soft voice and sweet smile made all the more charming with the flush of alcohol reddening his cheeks, it seemed only natural he would be popular. Lowered inhibitions made him more talkative, too. He asked all the right questions and made all the right noises, further cementing himself as someone worth fawning over.  
  
So Kei had spent much of the night sulking, his beer growing warm in his hands. He tried to ignore the trill of Tadashi’s laughter as it mingled with the girl’s, and he fought against the urge to stand up and stalk out of the building.  
  
The side effect to his aversion of watching Tadashi flirt was that he was left unaware of just how much his friend was drinking. Now, stumbling along the sidewalk in the dead of night with Tadashi unable to walk a straight line if his life depended on it, Kei knew he should have been more vigilant.  
  
A small part of him wanted to believe that this was acceptable retribution. That Tadashi deserved the hangover he was going to feel in the morning for flaunting his interest in anyone other than Kei. He wanted the other man to feel the twisting of his gut and the pounding in his head that Kei felt whenever he saw Tadashi’s eyes light up for someone else. It was only fair, Kei thought. It was only fair for him to know the same pain.  
  
A larger, softer part of him knew that was just jealousy talking. Kei wanted to wish nothing but peace for Tadashi. If that peace was found with him, well, that would be fine. And if it wasn’t Kei would continue to push his feelings as far back in his mind as he possibly could. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all he could do.  
  
“Kei. Kei,” Tadashi called from behind him, his voice slurring as much with excitement as with inebriation. “Kei, look.”  
  
He pointed towards the trees on their left, the branches shadowed in the dark. Something shuffled about near the base of the closest one, and Tadashi giggled.  
  
“It’s a raccoon,” he said in what Kei could only assume was supposed to be a whisper, but was echoed back in the empty street.  
  
He followed Tadashi’s hand and saw what was without a doubt not a raccoon. _Just how drunk was he?_  
  
“That’s a squirrel,” Kei said, shaking his head.  “And stop trying to go after it, it probably has rabies or something.”  
  
Tadashi was already off of the sidewalk by the time Kei finished talking. He turned back with a confused look on his face and damn if it wasn’t enough to make Kei’s heart skip. _He’s wasted_ , he thought. _How could be this cute when he’s wasted?_  
  
“Oh, yeah. You’re right, huh?” Tadashi said as he made his way back to Kei’s side. When he looked up at Kei his expression turned serious, and Kei could almost see the gears in his mind turning.  
  
He was about to remind Tadashi they needed to keep moving when his face lit up and the corners of his mouth moved to form a wide grin.  
  
“If you had rabies I’d take you to the hospital,” he said, nodding his head with enough enthusiasm that his whole body swayed. Kei reached out and grabbed hold of his arm to keep him steady.  
  
There was a moment of hesitation for each of them. Tadashi had frozen at Kei’s touch, smiling but still, like he was expecting something pleasant to happen. Kei’s grip on his arm tightened, his fingers unconsciously holding onto Tadashi for dear life. _Would he remember if Kei kissed him?_ If he just pulled him close and pressed their lips together, taking what he so desperately wanted. Tadashi would taste like those fancy cocktails he enjoyed so much - sweet as sugar, with the sting of alcohol hiding in the after taste.  
  
“Thanks,” Kei said finally, and let go of Tadashi in a way that was more of a shove than a release. He wanted space between them now, space enough to stop him from doing something that could never be undone.  
        
He was already at the next pool of light when he noticed Tadashi was not following him. With a sigh he walked back to where the other boy was standing and still looking into the trees. One slight push to his back and Tadashi started walking again, giggling about something heard only his head. Kei’s fingers curled at his side, and he began to count the steps left until they reached their apartment.  
  
“God, Tadashi,” he mumbled, once again scolding himself for allowing the two of them to get into this situation. “Next time don’t try to keep up with Tanaka. That man is not human.”  
  
It was twelve minutes past two in the morning when Kei finally got Tadashi to the front door. He tried to fumble for the keys in his pocket, pushing in front of Kei to get to the lock. The taller boy gently moved him aside and opened the door himself, the relief that they were finally home clear on his face.  
  
“Go on, get inside,” he said, and ushered Tadashi inside.  
  
Tadashi did as he was told and walked further into the apartment. A small thud from his position down the hallway was followed by a series of snorting laughter. Kei hurriedly locked the door and followed the sound.  
  
“It’s dark in here,” Tadashi said, and his hands slid along the wall in search of the light switch. Kei’s eyes had a hard time pulling away from watching the trailing path of the long and delicate lines of Tadashi’s fingers.  
  
The bright glare of the overhead light brought Kei back to his senses. Again he pushed at Tadashi’s back, this time in the direction of his bedroom.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “Go get in bed, I’ll bring you some water.”  
  
When he made his way to Tadashi’s room, a tall glass of water in his hand, the other boy was already sprawled out on the bed with an arm slung over his face. Kei set the water down on the nightstand and did his best not to look at the small patch of Tadashi’s stomach that was visible where his shirt had wrinkled and pulled up.  
  
“Drink this, and go to sleep. If you need to throw up do it in the bathroom.”  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Tadashi said, his words muffled from beneath his arm. “Thank you for walking me home.”  
  
“We live in the same place.”  
  
Tadashi smiled at that, a sleepy, soft smile that left Kei biting the inside of his lip to stop from screaming out his feelings right then and there.  
  
“Yeah, lucky, huh?”    
  
Under his arm Kei could tell Tadashi’s eyes were closing, his body on the verge of sleep or else the blank unconsciousness of blacking out. He gave one last pained  look to Tadashi’s peaceful face before turning to leave the room.  
  
“Kei?”  
  
At the doorway Kei stopped and took a deep breath. All he wanted was get to his own bed and let himself dream of a different end to this night. An end that left him happy and warm laying beside Tadashi instead of alone and with the image of him and the girl from the bar stuck in his head.  
  
Instead he turned back and sat on the edge of Tadashi’s bed.  
  
“What is it now?”  
  
Tadashi removed the arm covering his face, and his eyes were bleary and rimmed with red.  
  
“Kei. You know, right?”  
  
_Please_ , Kei thought, _just fall asleep. Let me go._ But he could never leave Tadashi when the other boy asked for him.  
  
“Sure,” he answered, agreeing in hopes that would end the conversation and he could escape to the safety of his blankets.  
  
“No. Really. You have to know.” Tadashi was insistent now, and he shifted on to an elbow to better look up at Kei. His eyes swam, too large for his face and just as unsteady as his legs. When he reached out a hand and took hold of Kei’s wrist he almost jumped back in surprise. His grip was unusually strong.  
  
Kei’s eyes darted towards the door, then back to Tadashi. How long was he going to have to play along?  
  
“Know what, Tadashi?” he sighed. “What do I have to know?”  
  
“That…that.” Tadashi stopped speaking, his gaze unfocused. Kei thought he was done, that he would go limp and fall back onto his side in sleep, but a heartbeat later he shook his head as if to clear it and focused again on Kei.  
  
“That I love you,” he finished simply.  
  
Kei’s body stiffened, the air lurching out of his lungs as if he had been hit solidly in the middle. Tadashi’s eyes were so gentle and earnest, the pupils dilated wide in the bright room. Even the swaying of his body had stopped.    
  
How many times had Kei imagined these words? In the dark, ashamed to even be thinking them, he would play them over and over. They would fall from Tadashi’s lips in the sweetest of ways, left hanging in the air to be answered with a kiss. The same words hung there now in stark reality, the stillness of the room closing in while Tadashi looked patiently at Kei, waiting for some sort of reply.  
  
Maybe the red of Tadashi’s cheeks was caused by passion and not by alcohol, and maybe the hand that was now softly running its thumb over Kei’s palm was planned and not impulse. Maybe Tadashi loved him as much as Kei loved him back.  
   
_No,_ Kei realized. Tadashi was drunk. He was drunk and he did not know what he saying. He did not mean it. He was saying whatever came to his head and Kei was just there at the right time and he was projecting his feelings on to him and…  
  
And there was no way Tadashi loved him.  
  
Kei stoop up sharply and pulled his wrist out of Tadashi’s grasp.  
  
“You’re drunk,” he said, and his voice was cold and flat. “Go to bed.”  
  
“Tsuk- _Kei_ ,” Tadashi whined and reached for Kei’s hand again, faltering when he missed. “I-I love you so much you know? I just-“  
  
His mouth snapped shut, and at once his complexion went from flushed to deathly pale. His freckles stood out like splotches of mud, and his hand raced up to cover his mouth.       
  
 “Oh no,” he gasped, jumped out of the bed, and headed out of the room in a dead sprint. From down the hall the bathroom door slammed shut.  
  
Kei flinched at the sound of retching.  
  
It was the alcohol, he knew, that was making Tadashi sick. That was just logic and fact. But that small part of him that wanted to ruin every good thing screamed that Tadashi had gotten sick only _after_ telling Kei he loved him. That must mean the thought of loving Kei was enough to make Tadashi dash away in revulsion.  
  
Kei waited until it was quiet for minute before walking to the bathroom room. He knocked on it once, his hand hovering above the doorknob.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
A muffled groan was his answer, and then another round of wet coughs.  
  
“No,” Tadashi answered after he was done, a hoarseness clinging to his throat when he spoke. “Don’t come in. I’m just going to sleep here.”  
  
Kei stood at the door, undecided. He had gotten Tadashi home safe; he could take care of himself now. The discomfort in his voice was hard to ignore, though. If he could go in to the bathroom and hold Tadashi’s hair back, pet at it soothingly, he might be able to bring some sort of relief to the other boy. He could squeeze his hand and tell him he would feel better in the morning.  
  
Except that wasn’t his place.  
  
“Okay,” Kei said, letting his head hang now that Tadashi could not see him. He turned away from the door to begin the short walk to his own bedroom. “Yell if you need me.”  
  
_If you need me._  
  
_If you were sober. If you meant it. If you loved me._  
  
Kei could take all the ifs in the world and it still would not be enough to unbreak his heart. In the morning Tadashi would not remember anything after leaving the bar. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember being there at all. He certainly wouldn’t remember telling Kei he loved him. Those type of declarations, done in the middle of the night, a belly full of alcohol, were nothing but mistakes.  
  
Kei did not blame Tadashi. He didn’t know how hard his rashly spoken words would hit. He blamed himself; for believing for just one minute that Tadashi was serious, for allowing himself the fantasy of being more than a roommate and a friend. That after all these years there was something there between them. The fault was his own. This pain, so sharp and deep, was his own doing.  
  
By the time he fell asleep, the sounds of Tadashi being sick in the background long faded, his pillow was soaked in tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tadashi wakes up on the bathroom floor in the morning with no recollection of what happened the night before, and for some reason Kei is avoiding him.

Tadashi awoke to the harsh buzz of his cell phone. It vibrated in his pocket twice, drawn out and clattering, stuck between the fabric of his pants and something hard. Without looking he reached towards the sound, but instead of finding it his hands touched only bare skin.  
  
Confused, he opened his eyes too quickly. The fluorescent glare of the bathroom light pierced into his brain, sending a spike of pain that felt like thousands of ice picks simultaneously digging in. A wave of nausea passed over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut again until it passed.  
  
When the threat of vomiting passed, Tadashi reopened his eyes, this time with caution. There was the bathroom floor beside him, his face level with the pink spotted tile. There was the base of the toilet, to his left, wet with continual condensation in the old apartment building. And there, half way down his legs in what appeared to have been a struggle to free himself, were his pants.  
  
He reached for the phone in his pocket, his eyes still bleary and squinting in the bright light as he checked the incoming message. It was a number he did not recognize, so he swiped it away to be dealt with later. He had more pressing matters to attend to.  
  
With effort Tadashi pushed himself to his feet, the change in position causing another bout of nausea. He groaned and pressed his lips together tightly, doing his best to ignore the rising taste of bile in his mouth.  
  
He flinched at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His hair was flattened from where his head had lain on the hard floor all night, and his cheeks looked splotchy and red. _A shower,_ he thought through the haze of his hangover. _A shower will help_.  
  
Under the steaming water Tadashi’s head began to clear. His skin burned red from the heat, turned up past the little red symbol on the spout he liked to think of as merely a suggestion. It felt good to wash away the sweat and stress of the night before. It was almost as if the water spiraling down the drain was taking with it the pain in his body.  
  
He tried to remember what had led to him waking up on the bathroom floor. He had drank too much, that was clear. But how much had been too much? Try as he might he could not count off the drinks on his fingers; he always lost count at four.  
  
He had been at the bar with the pool tables, though he couldn’t remember the name. There had been a girl. A girl with soft black hair and dark eyes. Did she tell him her name? Tanaka was there, too. Tadashi remembered him patting him on the back and buying him a drink. And another drink. And another.  
  
Kei was there, too. That he could remember in stark clarity, up to a point. Kei always stood out in his memories like a bright light, pulling at the pieces of half recalled words and images until everything orbited around him like he was the point in Tadashi’s life that had the strongest gravity.  
  
Tadashi saw in stutters and flashes leaving the bar, his feet slipping on the curbside and Kei’s strong arm keeping him from falling. He remembered giggling and smiling and feeling _so happy_ that he had someone to guide him home. Then there was nothing. A fog enveloped everything after the walk through the dark streets, though he knew he had to have ended up in the bathroom somehow.  
  
Kei probably helped him in. Maybe he had even kneeled by him and held his hair back while he was sick and trembling. They took care of each other. That’s what they _did_. That’s how it had always been.  
   
Something between a laugh and a sob came out of Tadashi’s mouth, and he spent the next minute coughing out the water he swallowed.  
  
When his skin could no longer take the burn of the water, he stepped out of the shower to find the lights of the room less jarring. He scampered to his room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, unable to bring himself to dress in the wrinkled and dirty clothes from yesterday.  On his bedside table was a full glass of water. Looking at made him realize how incredibly thirsty he was, and he gulped it down before dressing in fresh clothes.  
  
In the kitchen he found Kei sitting at the small table, a textbook open in front of him and headphones half covering his ears. He did not look up right away, and Tadashi had the pleasure of watching him flip a page of the book, a look of deep concentration on his face. Was he studying already?  
  
Tadashi bit back smile as he slumped into the seat across from Kei and put his elbow on the table. The other boy looked up only when he felt the table shake.  
  
“‘Morning,” Tadashi said, and found that speaking irritated his raw and dry throat. He coughed into his hand, the action causing another spike of pain in his head.  
  
Kei’s eyes had already returned to his book.  
  
“It’s noon,” he answered. His voice was flat and just loud enough for Tadashi to hear from across the table. That was nothing new, though. He often pushed away all outside distractions when he was studying.  
  
“Heh. Yeah.”  
  
Tadashi’s eyes roamed the kitchen, first checking the clock and finding with no surprise the Kei was right. Half of the day was already gone, wasted on the bathroom floor in dreamless sleep. He stopped when he saw the mug placed beside Kei’s book, and his mouth began to water.          
  
“Is that coffee?” he asked, already standing up to pour himself a cup. If anything was going to help banish the hangover he was nursing it was going to be a cup of burning hot black coffee.  
  
Kei didn’t answer, not even an nod. That was Tadashi’s first clue that something was wrong.  
  
Over the next half hour Tadashi sat at the table and drank his coffee, absently browsing through his phone. He snuck glances up at Kei, who, by the third time, Tadashi was certain was avoiding meeting his eyes.  
  
Sometimes Kei got annoyed with him. Sometimes he got annoyed at Kei. You couldn’t spend over ten years as best friends without a little bit of contention. Over time Tadashi had found there were few things that could not be solved by apologizing to Kei, even if he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for.  
  
This morning he likely had a real reason to apologize. During those few hours of stubborn haze blocking his memories he could not say whether he did something to upset Kei or not. For all he knew he could have thrown up on him, or spilled some secret Kei had told him in confidence. His skin prickled at the thought; there were plenty of things he could blurt out about his friend that he would rather keep hidden. Like the dinosaur plushie he pulled close to his chest when he slept. Or the night Tadashi had found him bent over the kitchen counter crying into a bowl of strawberry ice cream. If he had, in a drunken stupor, reveled anything he should not have he needed to apologize as soon as he could.  
  
Gulping down the last swig of coffee, now lukewarm and bitter, Tadashi bit his bottom lip and prepared himself for Kei’s valid annoyance.  
  
“Hey Tsukki?” he called across the table. “I’m sorry about last night.”  
  
Kei finally looked up, though his eyes hovered on Tadashi’s only a moment before returning to his book.  
  
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice flat and expressionless.  
  
So it wasn’t what Tadashi thought.  
  
Kei would have more to say to him if he had done something so unforgivable. His voice might have still been cold and toneless but there would have been some type of heat in his eyes, or a slew of comments about how Tadashi should know better than to drink until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Maybe something about trust.  
  
Tadashi blew out a small sigh of relief. Whatever else he could have done, it couldn’t be as bad as he first imagined. Still, Kei would not look at him, and he wanted to get back to their usual banter. Mornings without easy conversation and light smiles left Tadashi feeling agitated the rest of the day, like he had forgotten to eat breakfast or had slept on his back the wrong way.  
  
It was something else then. Something subtle? Maybe Kei was just annoyed at having to look after Tadashi. There had never been a time when Kei had been so drunk he needed Tadashi’s help getting home. He would have gladly done so, if it came up, but Kei was more restrained than that. He never allowed himself to let go of the image he had spent years perfecting - that of an aloof bystander. It was lucky, Tadashi supposed, that Kei was like that when it came to imbibing. His self control bled over to Tadashi, and with Kei around he never went to far.  
  
Until last night, apparently. Of course Kei would be upset now. Tadashi must not have listened to a word Kei said about watching how much he drank.  
  
“No, no, it’s not fine. You shouldn’t have to take care of me like that.” Yamaguchi swirled the coffee cup around in his hands, the thick dregs covering the bottom in meaningless patterns that he stared into instead of at Kei. “You did take care of me, right? I…ah, this is really bad but I don’t really remember much.”  
  
“I can believe that. You were wasted.”  
  
Kei turned another page of his book and shifted in his seat until his elbow was on the table and his chin was resting above it. His eyes moved as they scanned the words on the page, perhaps a bit too quickly to be reading them.  
  
_Look at me,_ Tadashi wanted to yell. Instead his fingers clenched around his mug, hoping for any last shred of warmth that was long since gone.  
  
“I won’t do that again,” he mumbled. Not only did the thought of another hangover make his skin prick but if over doing it caused Kei to behave like this then there were two very good reasons to learn some self control.    
  
“Ah, I feel so embarrassed.”  
“Forget it.”  
  
Tadashi shook his head, and his hair, still damp from the shower, smacked against his cheeks.  “No way, I want to make it up to you. Do you want to go out for lunch? My treat?”  
  
He was rambling now, words tumbling out of his mouth in just the way he had feared he spoke last night. There had to be something to say that would dig Kei out from the sour mood he was in. Maybe if he just suggested enough things Kei would sigh, close his book, and they would walk out the door in their usual comfortable companionship.  
  
“Is your stomach even capable of that?” Kei asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. At the mention Tadashi’s insides rolled and gurgled and of course Kei was right. Just the image of lunch set out before him was enough to pale his skin. His diet today was fated to be nothing but coffee and crackers, and Kei knew it better than he did.  
  
 “Just forget it, alright?” he repeated, and Tadashi saw his fingers twitch on the pages of the text book, like Kei was resisting curling them into a fist or pushing his nails into the stack of paper.  
  
Tadashi should have stopped there. It might have taken the day but Kei would have gotten over whatever it was that was bugging him. He just needed to be patient. But he had never been able to stop himself when Kei was upset. The urge to make things right, to do _anything_ that would put his friend at ease, was overwhelming, and at his core Tadashi was weakest when it came to Kei.  
  
“Are you s-“ he started, but was immediately interrupted by the book on the table slamming shut.  
  
“I said forget it, Yamaguchi.”  
  
Tadashi flinched at Kei’s tone. He was looking at him now, gaze unwavering as he stared into his eyes. Kei was like steel, or flint, or whatever it was that on its own was hard and cold but when struck sparked into something much more dangerous. He pushed his chair out and gathered up the closed book, and this time his fingers were curled into a fist at his side. The muscles in his forearm stood out with the effort, and Tadashi could only look on as Kei marched out of the kitchen. The sound of his bedroom door banging caused Tadashi to squeeze his eyes shut.  
  
“Oh. Okay…” he said to the empty room, too late to do any good.  
  


* * *

  
  
Eventually Tadashi left the kitchen. He gathered up his own text books and papers and made a nest for himself in bed, intending to try to focus on his school work just as Kei was doing. The door of his bedroom he left wide open as in invitation for Kei to come in if he wanted, though every time the other boy passed by on his way through the hall he did not even glance in. Tadashi followed him with his eyes when he passed, hopeful that _this time_ he’d turn and roll his eyes at the mess Tadashi had made of the blankets on his bed.  
  
Kei left sometime in the afternoon without  a word said to Tadashi, who thought it better not to ask. He was gone for a few hours, which in itself was not unusual, but the way he had put on his coat and left the apartment in stoney silence was. Tadashi spent the time dozing in and out of a nap, waking up every so often and attempting to make progress on his homework before giving up and returning to the comfortable darkness of sleep. The night before had left him wrecked and weak, too nervous to eat and feel his stomach roll. So he wasted the day, his mind never far from Kei and what it was that had affected him so much.  
  
The streetlights had just turned on outside of the living room window when Kei returned. Yamaguchi lifted his head from the over sized couch cushion, where he had moved to some time earlier, and watched him walk in and shake his coat off his shoulders. The late spring air that rushed in with him filled the small entry way and even across the room Yamaguchi could feel it bite at his skin. He pulled the blanket covering him closer to his neck, though soon the door was shut and locked behind Kei.  
  
It was a moment before Kei noticed Yamaguchi on the couch. _Don’t let him walk by without saying anything,_ Yamaguchi pleaded. If he did, he wasn’t sure what he would have to do next. Apologizing had not worked, and if leaving Kei alone had failed as well, what else was there to do?  
  
“I brought you some soup,” Kei said as he pushed past the armchair by the entry way and moved into the living room. He lifted the plastic take out bag in his hand and set it on the table in front of Yamaguchi. “Eat it while it’s hot.”  
  
Yamaguchi’s eyes twitched and his nose suddenly felt itchy. He wiped at them with the back of one hand and pushed the blanket off of him with the other. He was suddenly starving, and the smell of something deep and earthy coming from the bag set his stomach rumbling.  
  
“Thanks!” he said as he pulled the contents out and opened the lidded container. Steam rose from the soup, and he breathed in the delicious aroma of mushrooms and onions. His favorite.  
  
When he looked up, a mouth of broth dribbling down his chin, Kei was looking at him. The malice from the morning was gone, replaced with an expression Yamaguchi had come to expect from Kei when he was home and comfortable.  Kei seemed to have been content to forgive Tadashi on his own. What he needed must have been time and solitude to sort out whatever had happened last night. Yamaguchi still wished he knew exactly what it was, but if the opportunity to find out had passed he was happy to let it go.  
  
Kei tossed a napkin from the bottom of the bag to Yamaguchi and slunk into the armchair. His eyes scanned the couch, the blanket, Tadashi’s ruffled and uncombed hair.  
  
“Did you just lay around all day?” he asked.  
  
“Mmm…yeah, I did,” Tadashi said, swallowing a mouth of soup fast enough to burn the inside of lips. He was eager to keep the conversation going, and to cover up all the silences with things he had missed out on saying throughout the day.  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
Kei settled deeper into the chair and pushed the bridge of his glasses up with a lazy swing of his hand. Behind his spoonful of food Tadashi grinned, knowing this little habit signified the beginning of one of Kei’s rants. The day was back to normal, and all it took was patience and hours of worrying.  
  
“I went to the library. Kuroo was there and…”  
  


* * *

  
  
Hours later the two boys still sat in the living room. They had both brought in their laptops and books, determined to spend the evening making headway on the mountain of essays due next week. Yamaguchi struggled to focus and plucked away at his keyboard as he wrote slow, labored sentences. A cup of coffee was never far from his reach.  
  
The room was filled with the sound of music and the occasional frustrated groan from Tadashi. This same scene had played out countless time before: Kei and Tadashi, sitting across from each other or even on the same couch, quietly working to the backdrop of whatever songs Kei had picked out. It was so comfortable and familiar that Tadashi almost forgot the first half of the day, and how anxious he had been waiting for Kei to return to normal.  
  
Tadashi was busy trying to decipher a page of his textbook when the song playing through the speaker changed. He looked up from his work as the beginning notes of his favorite song reached his ears.  
  
“Oh!” he exclaimed, waving his hand to get Kei’s attention. “Turn it up! I love-“    
  
Tadashi stopped, stumbling over his words. Something in the back of his mind, something faint and hidden by layers of dense fog, began to surface.    
            
“I love…” he mumbled, taking the word slow, feeling the way it left his mouth and pulled at the corners of his lips. The haze that had settled over his memories of the previous night lifted as he played the word over and over in his head, hearing it said back in his own voice, strong and sure.  
  
_Oh._  
  
Tadashi jumped from his spot on the couch, his notebook flying off his lap and hitting the floor with a soft thud.  
  
“Um. I’ll be right back,” he said, his face already turning a deep crimson. He bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door in the same fashion he now remembered doing last night.  
  
Standing with his hands clutching the lip of the sink, he fought down the urge to retch and bring up all the soup he had eaten.  
  
He had said it. He had actually finally said it.  
  
And then he had forgotten.  
  
This was a disaster. This was the worst thing that could have possibly happened.  
  
Tadashi bit at the inside of his lip, keeping back the panic that rose in his chest with the sting of pain.  
  
_“I love you.”_  
  
Plain and simple, direct and concise. He had told Kei he loved him. _Let this be a dream,_ Tadashi begged his reflection in the mirror above the sink. _Let me be remembering it wrong._ But no, it was the only thing that fit and now, standing in the stark bathroom light, he could recall it all with perfect clarity. The look of surprise on Kei’s face and the blurring of his features in…tenderness? Was that right? For an instant, before the other boy had tried to shrug off Tadashi’s confession, had he looked happy?  
  
His reflection was giving no answers. It merely stared back at him, freckles standing out on his skin like dots he needed to connect in order to understand the lines connecting him to Kei. He looked older than he imagined himself. The years had gone by fast, changing the shape of his cheeks as they lost their childlike roundness, replacing the soft curve of his jaw with something harder. Through it all, through all the changes, Kei had been there. The sparkles in his eyes for Kei alone had never faded or changed. They remained bright as stars even in the fluorescent glow of the bathroom light.  
  
_What could he do now?_  
  
Even as he questioned it, Tadashi knew there was only one thing left to do. He wiped away the tears that had fallen on to his face and took as deep of a breath as his racing heart allowed.  
  
Back in the living room Kei was still working on his essay. He paused when Tadashi walked in, and gave him a look in question of his sudden flight.  
  
 Tadashi stood by the couch, fidgeting from one foot to the other. He didn’t sit down, or dial back the volume on the music. His hands found their way into the pockets of his sweatshirt, where they twitched and rubbed against each other and could not remain still.  
  
“Tsukki. Kei,” he said, looking for the right way to begin. The old nickname came first out of habit; something well worn and easy. It still fit, like an old jersey that held too much sentimental value to throw away. Kei, though - that was what was right now.  
  
 “You were kind of strange today and I had been wondering why,” he continued. “But just a minute ago, I, ah, well I think I figured out what’s going on.”  
  
That caught Kei’s attention. He stopped typing and pushed the lid of his laptop down until it was nearly closed, the light emitting from the screen forming a focused glow along his middle.  
  
“It’s nothing,” he said, and Tadashi thought his voice was just a little too strained.  
  
“It’s not nothing. I can’t stand things being weird between us. I just need to know something.”    
  
He paused, his fingers now digging into his palms inside of his sweatshirt. This was the only way. To clear the air, to make things right. Standing by the bathroom sink he had realized that he could not keep his feelings to himself forever. It might be selfish to push them on to Kei, but the damage had already been done. All that was left was to state it clearly, and whatever happened after that…well, it would happen.  
  
“Last night, I said something didn’t I? Something…something I’ve never said before.”  
  
Kei pushed the top of his computer all the way shut, and the music cut out with it. In the silence that followed his voice was a whisper Tadashi almost could not make out.  
  
“Tadashi, don’t.”  
  
“I did, then?” Kei’s words had confirmed it, though he already knew. It was almost like relief, even if the hard part still loomed ahead.  “I want-“  
  
“Stop it.” Kei interrupted, his voice pleading in a way Tadashi had never heard before. His eyes flickered from Tadashi’s face to the floor, to his hands. Was it panic that kept them from settling on one spot?

 _“Please.”_  
  
He almost did stop. Kei’s expression was frightened, and it was directed at him. It clawed at Tadashi’s heart to continue, and if it were anything else, he would have done as Kei asked and stopped. But he had come too far now.  
  
“It wasn’t because I was drunk, you know. I mean, I was drunk. But what I said, that wasn’t part of it.”  
  
Tadashi was rambling again, and carefully avoiding repeating his words from last night, even if he did not realize he was doing so. Kei must have noticed, for the panic in his eyes faded and was replaced with annoyance.  
  
“You don’t have to do this all the time, okay?” he said, and his computer shook on top of his lap. “Stop trying to make things easy for me. I don’t care if…if you didn’t mean it. You can stop looking for an excuse that will make everything okay, it’s getting obnoxious.”            
  
Now it was Tadashi’s turn to feel dread creep up. Kei didn’t believe him.  
  
“I’m not trying to look for an excuse! And what’s wrong with trying to make things easy?”    
   
Hot tears were welling in his eyes, and Tadashi angrily wiped them away. He took a step towards Kei, and he did not miss the small flinch that followed.          
  
“When I said I loved you, Kei, I meant it.”  
  
_I’ve meant it for so long,_ he wanted to yell. _I’ve meant it every time I think it in the morning when I see you half asleep in the hallway, every day at practice when you’re so focused you forget where you are. I’ve meant to say it a million times._  
  
Kei was shaking his head, stubborn as always. Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he look up from his hands?  
  
“I’m not drunk now, am I?” Tadashi keep going, the words cascading out in an unstoppable flood that now had finally started refused to stop. “I’m perfectly aware of what I’m saying, and don’t try to tell me that it’s just because of last night. I know how I’ve felt. For a long time.”  
  
It was cathartic, standing in front of Kei and spilling his feelings. They had been held tight and close to him for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be open and bare for Kei to see.  
  
“You don’t have to feel it, too. But I’m serious.” He finished, out of breath and flushed red.  
  
“Why?” Kei mumbled, and Tadashi was uncertain if he really said anything at all. Out of all the reactions he imagined from Kei, this was not among them. Disdain, emotionless rebuttal, complete refusal to reply - that’s what he expected.  
  
“Why what?”  
  
“Why are you doing this now? Why haven’t you said it before? Why,” Kei’s voice cracked on the last word, a sound so utterly unlike him that Tadashi for a moment was left speechless.  
  
He stood there, not three feet away from Kei, a distance that before this moment seemed close. Now it felt like an ocean separating them and he wanted to cross it as fast as he could and never let it settle there again. His feet would not move, though. They were rooted to the floor, tangled up in vines of fear and self consciousness and disbelief at the tears that he saw start to form in Kei’s eyes.  
  
“I-I don’t know. I was scared?” He was still scared, the proof in his heart racing and the knots in his stomach no longer caused by his faded hangover.  
  
“Of what? Of me? There was nothing to be afraid of.”  
  
Kei finally looked up from his lap. His eyes were wet but clear, and in them, t _hank god, thank everything_ , Tadashi thought, was the same rush of sparkles that were in his own eyes every time he looked at Kei. How had he missed them for so long? They were so obvious and so heart-wrenchingly beautiful.  
  
He didn’t think, just dove into the chair that Kei was sitting in, pushing the closed computer to the side. Kei’s arms wrapped around him instinctually, like he had been waiting just as long as Tadashi for this moment.    
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he cried into Kei’s shoulder, his hands now out of his pockets and clutching to Kei’s clothing. The other boy was warm and solid and and even scrunched up together in the small chair he was so comfortable Tadashi never wanted to move.  
  
“I love you,” he said again, this time into Kei’s ear where there would be no missing it. Kei shuddered beneath him, and his hands held tighter onto Tadashi’s arms.  
  
“I love you, too,” Kei answered, his voice muffled in the crook of Tadashi’s neck. He closed his eyes at the sensation of the warm breath on his skin, the pull of Kei’s arms, and the hammering of both of their hearts.  
  
They would have many things to discuss and secrets to share that had been locked up tight for years. There would be time to talk of what these new words meant, and where to go from here. But now, arms wrapped tightly around each other, Tadashi and Kei could do nothing but mumble soft and dear nothings, their hearts finally free and together.


End file.
